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Préfet we've got more time than anything else!" said the old man eagerly. "Oh, and I guess we've got a little money, too, enough to spread around among those other places, as well as here. This is going to be something like what Jim would want at last!" When the Préfet and his wife rose to go, they invited not only the Becketts but Brian and me to dine at their house that night.
The dog leaped upon Brian at sound of the remembered name. Odd that three of his names, chosen by different men, should begin with "S"! He's going to be an exciting passenger for the Becketts' car I foresee. But Brian can make him do anything, even to keeping quiet. And the trip can't go on a step without him now!
All the victims that could be saved have been saved by the French, carefully, scientifically bandaged like wounded soldiers: and the Becketts talked eagerly of giving money much money to American societies that, with the British, are aiding France to make her fair land bloom again.
"The day may come when we'll wish she were extinct. But really you've described her better than I could, though I stared quite a lot last night. Come along, dear. It's six minutes to nine. Let's trot down to breakfast." We trotted; but early as I'd meant to be, and early as we were, the O'Farrells and the Becketts were before us.
Shall I grow callous as time goes on, and accept everything as though I really were what they call me their "daughter"? Or I begin to think of another alternative. I'll turn to it if I grow desperate. The bright spot in my darkness is the joyful change in the Becketts.
I'm going away that's the third thing I wanted to tell you. Since we've had this talk, I'd put off going if I could. But I can't. Is your brother's case past cure?" "It's not absolutely hopeless. Doctor Paul, this is a confidence! It's to try and cure him that I'm with the Becketts. He doesn't know and I can't explain more to you.
A few pages ago I said that there was no one alive who could prove me a liar, to the Becketts or Brian: that I was "safe brutally safe." Well, I was mistaken. I am not safe. But I will go back to our start. Everyone warned the Becketts that they would get no automobile, no essence, and no chauffeur. Yet they got all three, as magically as Cinderella got her coach and four.
There was an asking smile on his lips, and by accident, of course his dear blind eyes looked straight at Mrs. Beckett. We are enough alike, we twins, for any one to know at a glance that we're brother and sister, so the Becketts would have known, of course, even if I hadn't cried out in surprise, "Brian!" Beckett almost ran to him and took his hand.
Brian and I turned over the pages of our memory for the Becketts, who listened like children to fairy tales or as we listened when you used to embroider history for us in those evening causeries in the dear old "den," Padre. I dug up the story about Henri at twenty-one, married more than a year to beautiful, lively Marguerite de Valois, and enduring lazily the despotism of his mother-in-law.
I can be of use to the Becketts, it's true, when we travel without a military escort, or with one young officer who knows more about seventy-fives than about the romance of history. I can tell them what I've read and what I've seen. But at Verdun you'll be in the society of generals; and at Rheims of as many dignitaries as haven't been bombarded out of town. The Becketts don't need me.
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